


something to believe in

by nancyboy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Discontinued sorry :(, I just realized i said ten chapters and idk if i'll write that manh? who KNOWS honestly., M/M, Not a lot of fluff here :'(, Still the June Rebellion except things are different..., except... different, i dont wanna give away what happens but Its Good >:), jk jk theres plot, mostlygonna be grantaire moping for ten chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nancyboy/pseuds/nancyboy
Summary: grantaire doesn't believe in anything. enjolras believes in any cause.  grantaire starts to believe in enjolras, though, which he knows is probably gonna be a mistake on his part.june rebellion, except, different events occur.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> heyy uh so my BEST AND MOST LOVELY FRIEND [catherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliganopen/pseuds/milliganopen) edited this for me! Please give her some love! She's amazing. Honestly, she's had a rough week and still editted this for me :'). She also made me sound smarter lol. enjoy!

The first 6 years of the boy's life were opulent. Not extensively so, but enough to be comfortable. Yet money was fickle and his father's business wasn't a secure one. The boy didn't remember much of the days of wealth. Everything he knows was from his sister. Memories of his past weren't the only thing he learned from his sister.

You see, the parents didn't possess any love. No love was shared between them. The mother married out of greed. When the money was gone, so was the love. Since the boy didn't remember the days of wealth, he, in turn, didn't remember the days of love. The only difference, his sister informed him, is the money kept them only a tad more silent. There still wasn't any love.

The parents also had no love for their children. The mother loved the idea of children. She wanted to flaunt her children. She wanted people to think she was such a perfect mother. Look at how she raised two angels. The boy and his sister were definitely not angels. And this made the mother despise them.

Disappointment was all the boy could make his mother feel. He blamed himself, the poor thing. It would take him a long time to realize that his mother was the one at fault.

The father was no better. He was angry with the children. He didn't want them around. He would only notice them when they failed. He wished he had better children. Just like the mother.

The only thing the parents loved was money. And when the money was gone, so were any scraps of love that had been there.

The only love that the boy ever experienced in his youth was from his sister. She was the one who raised him. Any positive traits he inherited came from her.

Things were bad. Things were very bad. The boy would cry and the sister would comfort him. The hard times sparked something in the sister. She grew vindictive. She was determined. She wanted to make things better.

The sister partially did it to comfort the boy, but also to comfort herself. She needed to give her brother something to believe in. She made herself believe that she could play robin hood, be the hero of the people, for her and her brother. And the boy believed her entirely. She seemed so sure. The boy had no reason to believe the cause she preached wasn't flawless. He believed in his sister and believed in her cause.

At first, the sister didn't think she'd go through with it. She was just trying to improve her brother's quality of life. Then, the more she talked the more she believed she could actually do it. And then she realized just saying things wasn't working anymore. She needed to take action.

She left without telling the boy, sure her plan would work and she'd return. She couldn't have the boy involved. If anything were to happen to him, she'd have nothing left to fight for. The sister snuck out of the house as soon as she was sure the boy was sleeping. She made her way to the closest estate of the nobles.

The sister didn't return. She was shot by the guard, before she even got a chance to snag anything.

This shattered the boy. The cracks formed by his childhood could not withstand this force. His mother's disappointment. His father's neglect. The shitty life he lived. So much more. The death of his sister was the final blow in any innocence he could have possessed.

This boy grew into the skeptic Grantaire, a drunken artist. No one would look at the boy of his youth and think that the boy was Grantaire himself.

Grantaire was close to death when, by chance he stumbled into a café. When he entered that café, the sight he saw would permanently ingrain itself into his psyche. He saw the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. Golden haired and godlike, Grantaire was sure he saw god himself.

Grantaire kept visiting that café, just to see him. Just to hear him. Soon he found himself becoming a member of this ragtag group of aspiring revolutionaries. Grantaire, the boy that was just shards of glass, of all people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be short but im giving myself an excuse because it's the prologue. i'm so bad at writing in length :'). anyway hey if you want you should check out my les mis sideblog on tumblr @ grantairetheskeptic . I just made it. I can also give you my main blog if you so desire (i think it's linked in my sideblog, but it maybnot work on mobile?). anyways i hope u enjoy! bless you for reading this <3


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> before the revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited by my lovely friend [catherine!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliganopen/pseuds/milliganopen) give her some love!!

Sharp pain throbbed in Grantaire's brain as soon as he woke up. It was certainly not a unfamiliar feeling to him. In fact, he'd be more worried if he had't had any semblance of a hangover lingering when he awoke. Unfortunately, this was a particularly painful one. 

He groaned as he rose, deciding to give a glance at the clock. He muttered a curse as he read the time. 11:37. He needed to be at the Musain at 12. He scrambled to get ready, missing buttons, not bothering to zip his fly. He froze as he was tying his ascot around his neck, beginning to gain a hazy memory of why his hangover was so horrendous this morning.

He'd gotten in a huge fight with Enjolras. Perhaps their worst yet.

It had been a rough day in general. By the time he'd gotten to the Musain he was already drunk. Grantaire usually picked on Enjolras but the alcohol made things get out of hand. The memories flowed back in now, the dam of inebriation crumbling to dust. He now recalled the words they exchanged, and they stung. Out of all the moments of his life the alcohol took from him, why couldn't this be one of them?

The words they spoke echoed in Grantaire's head, worse than the pain from the alcohol those words caused him to drink. 

"Sometimes I wish you didn't show up."

That's the last thing Enjolras said to him. Grantaire felt more pain in his stomach than alcohol could have inflicted. He considered skipping the Musain meeting. After all, that's what Enjolras would want. 

He couldn't do it. He couldn't skip a meeting. He needed Enjolras. Enjolras was the beacon guiding him through a fog of unbareable sorrow and poor life decisions.

Grantaire fixed his ascot and headed out.

~*~

When Grantaire walked into the cafe, everyone became silent and stared at him. Then the mutters began. Gossiping about him, right in front of him. He heard someone to his left whisper, in a not so subtle volume, "I can't believe he actually showed up." If only they knew. If they knew Grantaire, they'd knew he wouldn't miss it. "He probably doesn't remember," quipped a different voice. He clenched his teeth at that.

Enjolras didn't say a word. He just stared. Normally any form of glance from Enjolras would make Grantaire's stomach flip, but this was unbareable. Enjolras's eyes bore into Grantaire's soul. Grantaire couldnt bear to look at him anymore. Maybe he should have stayed home.

"You're here." Grantaire jumped, Enjolras's sudden words startling him. "And you're late." He doesn't even need to look at Enjolras to know he's scowling. Grantaire wants to speak, or thinks he should at least, but he can't find any words (and he's not sure he'd even be able to say any).

Enjolras clenched his fist. "You're so..." he pauses to think. Grantaire braced himself for whatever horrible thing Enjolras could call him. "Puzzling."

Grantaire looked up then, surprised that he heard that of all things. He expected an "annoying" or a "bothersome". Even more of a surprise was the look on Enjolras's face, which was no longer so seething. It was more desperate, like he was struggling to understand. 

"I really don't understand you." Enjolras huffed, and continued his meeting, ignoring Grantaire. 

Things seemed okay then, but just to be safe, Grantaire tried not to comment on anything at first. Eventually, he just couldn't help it and had to make a couple comments. Enjolras brushed him off, obviously not in the mood to argue.

Near the end of the meeting, Enjolras slammed his hand on the table, startling Grantaire who was zoning out. "The revolution is near," he said with that glint of awe in his eyes that made Grantaire swoon, "I can feel it! Soon we'll get a chance to prove everything we've been working so hard for." He was met with cheer all around and people raising their glasses in agreement. Grantaire didn't cheer, instead rolled his eyes.

"You say revolution is near, but I don't see you doing anything. What are you waiting for?" Grantaire criticized, skeptical as usual.

Enjolras scowled. "We're ready. The world isn't ready. I'll know when it's time, trust me." 

Grantaire wasn't sure about that, but he didn't say another word. And with that, the meeting soon came to a close. 

"Remember! Next meeting is Friday the first, usual time." Enjolras said as everyone gathered their things and headed out. Grantaire was beginning to leave when Enjolras grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Wait Grantaire, I need to talk to you for a moment."

Grantaire swallowed and turned around to look at Enjolras, but couldn't read what he was feeling. Enjolras waited for the rest to leave before speaking to him. 

"Grantaire," he sighed. "Why are you here? If it's obligation, I'm telling you now you don't have to keep coming."

"No, thats not it." Grantaire looked away sheepishly. "I'm here of my own free will.

"Then why? Why are you here? You make no sense." Enjolras's tone was frustrated but the look on his face was yearning. If only he knew, then everything would make sense to him.

Grantaire wanted to tell him, he really did. However, he couldn't take that risk, he couldn't bear to think about what Enjolras would think. Would he gloat? Probably not, that's not in his character. Would he lash out? Would he act strange around him? Whatever would happen, Grantaire just couldn't handle it. So instead of saying _It's because I idolize you, It's because you gave me something to believe in, It's because I love you..._ instead of what he wanted to say, he just said, "It's something to do."

Enjolras scowled at that. He almost looked disappointed. What did he want Grantaire to say? That he believed actually Enjolras one hundred percet and was just arguing with him for fun? That wouldn't be true and Enjolras knew that. "You can go, Grantaire."

Grantaire wanted to stay and try to make it up to Enjolras somehow, but he didn't. Instead he left and drank alone until he passed out.

~*~

The days in between the meetings were all a blur to Grantaire. In fact, if you asked him to recall a single event that occured that week he'd struggle to come up with even one. He didn't drink Friday, though. Showing up drunk to a meeting wasn't a good idea. Besides, if he wanted to get drunk so bad, it wouldn't be very hard to get drunk at the Musain itself.

After last week, Grantaire made sure to be on time to the meeting. Of course, he wasn't a second early, he was still himself, but he wasn't a second late either. Enjolras was busy, so he didn't notice Grantaire when he walked in. Grantaire was on time for him, and he didn't even notice. He grabbed a bottle of whatever alcohol he could find and sat at a table with Joly and Bousset, just nodding to them quickly in agreement before putting all his attention in the bottle.

Enjolras cleared his throat. "Red! The color of the revolution. Black! The darkness in the world that soon will come to an end. The revolution is so close! We just need the people on our side. Then we can start this revolution and fight for our cause! But don't think this means we don't have work to do. Our work will never end, not until we finally see the world we want to see." Enjolras glanced over at Grantaire, and then down at the bottle in his hand. He sighed. "We celebrate now, but don't get carried away. We must be prepared at all times." Grantaire rolled his eyes, knowing that comment was directed at him.

Marius stumbled into the meeting 15 minutes late, which was very unusual for him. Enjolras scowled. "You're late Marius." He crossed his arms. Marius muttered an apology and sat at the table where Grantaire was saying.

Joly, a typical worrier, saw the look on Marius's face and gasped. "Marius what's wrong?! You look as if you've seen a ghost. Are you ill?"

Marius shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. Grantaire smirked, always a gossip, and poured him a glass of the wine he was holding. "Here have some wine. Come on, tell your friends what's going on?"

Marius grinned to himself. "I just met the most amazing girl." He frowned. "She left before I could catch her name."

Grantaire gasped dramatically. "Marius! Are you in love?" He smirked.

Marius blushed. "L-love?! We just met... And I'll probably never see her again." He pouted

"Alright Don Juan." He chuckled. "This is so hilarious. Enjolras is planning in a revolution, and then you prance in like a lovesick puppy! It's so rich." Grantaire seemed to be the only one finding it amusing, though.

"Marius." Enjolras said and walked over to their table. "Don't forget that there's more important things in your life right now."

Grantaire, tipsy and feeling in the mood for attention stood on top of the table. "Now, don't you think love is important Enjolras? Without love there would be no revolution! Maybe his love for this girl is like your love for revolution. Like you'd fight to the death for your cause, maybe he'd fight to the death for this girl. Red and black are the colors that paint your revolution, but they're also the colors of love!" Grantaire said in a righteous, powerful voice. He over exaggerated the passion in the speech, obviously mocking Enjolras. "Red! It's the color of uh..." Grantaire couldn't find words on the spot.

"Desire?" Marius filled in.

Grantaire laughed. Yes! And Black?"

"Despair."

Enjolras sighed. "Grantaire sit down." 

Grantaire frowned, but obeyed him anyway. Then, Enjolras retorted with a long, and very boring speech on why the revolution was so important. Grantaire nearly fell asleep, nearly, because he couldn't when everyone started losing their goddamn shit at whatever Enjolras was saying. Chaos ensued. Enjolras was certainly good at getting people excited. Just another reason Enjolras was an admirable leader, and an admirable person in general. 

In the midst of the chaos, a familiar young boy ran in. Grantaire grinned. He was very fond of Gavroche. It was funny, Grantaire always thought he'd be horrible with kids, but he ended up treating Gavroche like a little brother. He saw himself in Gavroche. The naivety of him blindly following a cause reminded him of a young Grantaire. When Grantaire met him, he immediately felt the desire to lead him in the right path. He'd do anything to keep Gavroche from turning out like him.

It concerned Grantaire to see such a distressed look on Gavroche's face. Grantaire wanted to seek vengeance on whatever made him upset and comfort Gavroche until he felt better. He then noticed Gavroche trying to get everyone's attention.

"HEY!" Grantaire shouted, everyone immeadiately looking at him (probably because Grantaire doesn't usually call everyone's attention like this). "Gavroche has something to say."

Enjolras walked over to Gavroche and kneeled down in front of him, putting his hand on his shoulder. "What is it, Gavroche?"

"General LaMarque, he.... he's dead." Gavroche announced. The room fell into complete silence.

LaMarque. The people's man. He was the only glint of hope. Grantaire thought that Enjolras would be in shambles.

He thought wrong. The look on Enjolras's face was pensive, not distraught.

Enjolras grinned and his eyes lit up. "This is our sign! This is what will get the people on our side!" Enjolras paced around the room, completely giddy. "The revolution has begun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so first of all i tried to look up the actual weekday of general lamarque's death on june 1st but like idk if u knew but old calenders are fucked and are different in different countries. so i based it of the france calender, even though theres a possibility that lamarque didn't die on that day, because they could have based june 1st off the us calender? who knows! hey also i almost wrote 2000 words! who am i?! omg. also i figured out how many chapters theres most likely gonna be! its not a very long story, but i promise it gets more exciting :0. thank you for reading! come say hi to me on tumblr @ grantairetheskeptic <3


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited by my lovely friend [catherine!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliganopen/pseuds/milliganopen) give her some love. actually tell her to fuck off and that i can use the word pouted as much as i want. (Jk ily cat)

Grantaire never once thought that this day would actually come. He knew Enjolras truly meant the words he was preaching, but he never thought he'd get a chance to prove them. Was he just repressing it? Possibly so. Grantaire had no idea what he was getting himself into. If only he knew that following this godlike boy around would get him here, preparing to fight for a cause he didn't believe in... he'd probably still follow Enjolras anyway, because he has no self control.

Enjolras ran frantically around the cafe. "Combeferre, the barricade.. where will we get the chairs and tables and everything we need. We can use some from the cafe... but that won't be enough!" He sighed, running his hand through his radiant golden curls. "Time's running out. We need to figure this out as soon as possible." He glanced over at Grantaire, who was nursing his bottle of wine, and grimaced. "Grantaire, for god's sake, put the bottle down! This is not the time!" He scolded and snatched the bottle right out of Grantaire's hands. Grantaire pouted. Enjolras turned back to Combeferre. "And the guns? Do we have enough?"

Before Combeferre could answer, Grantaire cut in. "If you give me enough alcohol, I can kill them with just my breath alone." He joked, trying to grab the bottle back in the process. Enjolras was obviously not amused by his joke, and went back to discussing things with Combeferre. Grantaire sat at a table and pouted, disappointed by the lack of alcohol and Enjolras's attention.

Courfeyrac went up to Enjolras. "Enjolras, I have a solution to your barricade issue." He grinned. "We can raise the people's awareness of the revolution and get them to donate furniture to the cause."

"Courf, that's a great idea!" Enjolras said excitedly. Grantaire felt envy. He wished he could make Enjolras excited like that...

Maybe he could.

Grantaire stood up. "I'll do it. I'll go into the public."

Enjolras looked at Grantaire, face tinged with disbelief. "You? Grantaire, you have no people skills, to be frank. And besides, since when do you want to help?"

Ouch. Grantaire cringed. Enjolras had every right to be skeptical, whenever Grantaire's tried to help before, he's always messed it up. "No, hear me out. I'm not very good at this whole planning thing, so I might as well make myself useful. I can take Gavroche with me, make up some sob story and make the people pity us. I may not have good people skills, but I am a good liar."

"He's right." Combeferre said pushing up his glasses. He can't recall a single time Combeferre has said that to him. "Enjolras, you can make a speech out in the streets. Courfeyrac will get the people's attention, that's what he does best. Then we can ask the people to help us build the barricade. Gavroche and Grantaire can go for the pathos angle, I think they could execute it well."

"Alright... It seems... like that is the best idea." Enjolras said slowly, not wanting to admit Grantaire was in any way right. Grantaire smirked.

"Everyone. To the streets!" Enjolras cheered.

~*~

Enjolras had a gift, and it wasn't just his otherworldy beauty. The way he spoke was mesmerizing. No wonder he got so many to follow him already, including Grantaire, the skeptic himself. This speech was no exception, and Grantaire watched in awe. He could listen to Enjolras speak for hours on end. Enjolras could probably change the world with words alone. But in a world where no one's listening, it seemed like Enjolras would have to fight.

Courfeyrac did quite a decent job of attracting a crowd. There was mixed opinions amongst them, but what can you do? It would probably upset Enjolras, but he needed to understand that you just can't get everyone on your side. It's not possible. 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac both added their own spiels to the speech, Grantaire not paying attention to either of them. Enjorlas finished off the speech, and with each word Grantaire got more nervous. The time for him to finally prove his worth to Enjolras approached.

The crowd broke out to chatter, of praise and criticism alike. Enjolras had made his speech, now it was time to seal the deal. The other students were already conversing with some of the people in the crowd. Grantaire turned to Gavroche and muttered, "follow my lead". He took his hand and put on a somber, timid expression and went up to a lady in blue.

"Excuse me ma'am, do you have anything to spare? Anything at all, from a garden spade to an armoire?" He said with a passive smile.

"I'm not going to just throw away my furniture, if I was going to get rid of it, I'd sell it for money." The lady huffed.

Grantaire frowned. "I-I understand that, I do, ma'am. But that's what we're fighting for! A world where no one needs to worry about money." He channels his inner Enjolras, then smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, it just means a lot to me. This means a lot to me and my bother." He wrapped his arms around Gavroche. "Our parents were killed by the police, and now we're struggling to get by. It's so hard to find work, I'm trying my best, I really am. So when I heard him talk about the revolution I devoted my heart to the cause. Because it would make things so much better for me and my brother. He's fallen ill, and things are getting tougher. This is the only solution." Gavroche sniffles and coughs. Grantaire made a mental note to praise him for that later.

The woman gasped in pity. "Oh... I guess I could spare a rotten old chair." 

Grantaire beamed. "Thank you very much ma'am!" He picked up Gavroche excitedly. "You hear that Gav? Enjolras is gonna be so proud of us." Gavroche giggled, but soon broke out in a cough.

"You can take my old table too." The woman in blue said after hearing Gavroche cough.

"You're so kind, ma'am." Grantaire gave her one last smile and moved onto his next victim.

He continued to go for the "pathos angle" like Combeferre would say, making significant progress. This, sadly, was Grantaire's greatest accomplishment to date. He hoped Enjolras would give him credit for it.

The next day they built the barricade, singing songs as furniture rained out windows into the streets. Enjolras looked as if he'd never had felt more alive. 

When the barricade was built, they all took a break. It was hard work, truly. Grantaire took a seat next to Enjolras.

"Good work today, really. I didn't think you could pull something like that off. Or that you would even try," Enjolras said. Something was off. He didn't seem happy.

"Thanks." He didn't elaborate further, even though he'd like to have asked him a million questions, to know every detail of how Enjolras felt about him. "I'm shocked you're not ecstatic right now. What's wrong?"

Enjolras sighed. "The crowd. I thought... I thought, you know, with LaMarque's death everyone would believe me. That everyone would know that revolution is necessary." He put his head in his hand and sulked.

"Enjolras... it's not your fault. Not everyone in the world is an Enjolras. There's some Grantaires too. And some worse than me. There's some who don't believe your cause has any merit. There's even some that will do anything to stop you."

Enjolras smiled sadly. "Thanks Grantaire. You know... you're not as bad as I thought. I thought you were. I thought come revolution time you'd do more harm than good. I was wrong. In fact, so far you're actually doing some good. I'm glad that I was just underestimating you."

Just then, an unfamilar man climbed into the barricade. Everyone (except Grantaire) fumbled for their guns and pointed them at him. Enjolras walked up to him, leaving Grantaire's side. He kept his gun pointed at the intruder. "Who are you?!" He demanded, just a rifle's length away from the man.

The man raised his arms submissively. "I'm here to volunteer." 

Enjolras slowly lowered his gun, his peers following suit after seeing him do so. "Alright then, grab a gun. They could attack any moment." He said, turning his back to the volunteer and returning to his post on the barricade.

The volunteer stood out. The rest of them were all young. He had to be 50 at least. Grantaire was curious what made him want to join them. 

He heard Joly sigh to the right of him. "I wish we knew if they were coming. Then we could know if we had time to rest or not." Joly said.

"I'd kill for a nap right now." Grantaire agreed.

"I could help with that." The volunteer suggested. Everyone looked at him expectedly. "You see, in my younger days I was a solider. I might be able to use that to find out their plans."

Enjolras pats his sholder. "That's a great idea, thank you so much."

The volunteer nodded. He climbed up the barricade and left. And then the anticipation resumed. Every minute made Grantaire start to regret this even more.

~*~

The volunteer didn't return for a few hours. When he returned, the excitement of battle had left their faces. They were all desperate to see action or a bed. Grantaire was nursing his third bottle.

"They won't attack tonight." The volunteer announced. "They plan to starve you out."

Everyone cheered in response, glad they could finally put the guard down. Grantaire himself put down his bottle and relaxed.

"Wait!" A small, shrill voice rang out. Grantaire looked over to see it came from Gavroche. "He's a liar!"

The volunteer merely chuckled in response. "Kids right? Always so silly. Don't you understand young man, I gathered information from the mean soldiers." 

No one laughed. They knew Gavroche better. They knew he was clever. Enjolras didn't say anything to the volunteer, instead he kneeled in front of Gavroche. "Gavroche, please elaborate." He asked calmly, focusing all his attention on the boy.

"This man isn't a volunteer! He's an enemy ! Isn't that right Inspector Javert!"

Most of the students then rushed toward Javert, either grabbing and restraining him or pointing their guns at him. Grantaire instead ran over to Gavroche and picked him up. "Gavroche you brilliant bastard! Bravo!" He said excitedly, ruffling Gavroche's hair.

"Alright, everyone back to positions! They could attack any minute now!" Enjolras ordered.

"What about the prisoner?" Courfeyrac questioned. "Won't he escape?"

"I'll guard him." Grantaire suggested, acting with his heart instead of his brain. If it was for anything other than Enjolras, he wouldn't do it.

"Grantaire, at the rate you're consuming alcohol, you'll be passed out in an hour." Enjolras said, his turn to act as the skeptic.

"I'm not gonna be much use in the fight anyway. Don't waste your better fighters as a guard. And besides, Gavroche can help me."

Enjolras was silent. Grantaire actually came up with a good idea. Grantaire smirked.

"Fine."

~*~

Another hour went by with nothing happening. Except now, no one dared to slack. They were sure they'd be attacked any moment.

Someone else stumbled into the barricade. Everyone rushed to grab their guns until Marius yelled in protest. "Wait! I know who she is!" He rushed up to the girl, who, when Grantaire squinted he realized was Gavroche's sister, Eponine.

"Eponine!" Marius exclaimed. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from the barricade."

"M-Marius-" she started, falling into his arms.

Marius supported her, eyes widening in shock when he felt moisture. He looked at his hands, now tinged in red. "Eponine is this blood?"

Upon hearing this, Grantaire grabbed Gavroche and held him. He couldn't stand what was happening. This couldn't be happening to Gavroche. He couldn't lose his sister like Grantaire lost his so many years ago.

Eponine was on the ground, Marius still cradling her. She didn't deserve this. Grantaire and her didn't speak much but they shared a love for Gavroche, and she did remind him of his own sister. He wasn't prepared for how much her death would affect him.

And poor Gavroche. Gavroche was a little tougher than Grantaire was at his age, but he knew losing her would cause him despair. It wasn't fair. He was supposed to keep Gavroche from experiencing things like this. He was supposed to keep him from turning out like him. It was a reminder that no matter what the world was still cruel. Grantaire felt hopeless. There was nothing he could do to stop the world from being cold and mean.

She died in Marius's arms before the battle began. The first casualty. It made Grantaire feel sick. He really wasn't ready for these people that he had come to know to die. They had become his family, cliché enough. He'd rather his own mother die than anyone here.

Grantaire felt Gavroche's sob vibrate against his chest. He held him closer. Grantaire began to cry a little himself.

Joly, always sympathetic and anxious, walked over to Grantaire and Gavroche. "Are you two alright?" He asked.

"Go away!" Grantaire snapped. "You couldn't possibly understand!" Joly took a hint and left them alone.

None of them could understand. None of them had ever felt the pain of losing the only person you had. Grantaire was the only one there who could comfort Gavroche.

"Gavroche, I know she was all you had. But listen. Sometimes family isn't just your blood. I'll be there for you, just like her. When this is all over you can come over my house whenever you'd like. I don't want you to think you don't have someone, because I'm here. You're parents don't matter. I'm your big brother now, and I'm all you need."

Gavroche smiled sadly. "You're such a sap, Grantaire." He said, but he appreciated it. Grantaire knew that he did, despite all the jokes he hides his feelings behind. This kid really is a mini Grantaire, except with hope for the world still left inside. Grantaire smiled, relieved the world still hadn't taken that from him.

~*~

Not even an hour later another stranger climbed into the barricade. This time a man in uniform. There were at least ten guns pointed at him in that instant.

"Wait!" He shouted. "I'm not an enemy, I'm here to volunteer."

Grantaire laughed. "The irony! We had one of you come in earlier and look where he ended up." Grantaire gestures towards the imprisoned Javert. The man glanced over at Javert, and eyes widened. 

"Why should we trust you?" Courfeyrac gibed. "If I'm not mistaken you're wearing an army uniform."

"It's how I got in here." The man claimed. 

"They're here! They'll attack any moment!" Bousset shouted.

Enjolras handed the man a gun. "Here, take this. You're here to fight, so fight. If you betray us, you'll regret it."

The fight began. As Grantaire predicted, he was completely useless. He tried his best, even though Enjolras would probably never recognize that. He just can't work up the nerve to shoot a gun.

The man didn't end up betraying them. In fact, he even shot down a sniper. After the battle was done Enjolras praised him. 

"I don't need anything." The man said in response to Enjolras's offer to give thanks. "Actually... let me take care of the spy." 

Enjolras nods. "He's all yours."

The man disappeared with the spy. Minutes later they heard a gunshot.

"Courfeyrac, take the watch." Enjolras said. Courfeyrac obeyed. "They won't attack until the sun comes up. Everyone take a rest."

"Let's drink." Feuilly offered, with a timid grin. "To making it through this battle."

"I'll drink to those gorgeous flowers who grow in my mind." Jehan raises his glass.

"You mean girls? Yeah, I'll drink to the witty girls who sleep with me too." Joly sneered. Jehan glared at him.

"I'd never turn down a drink." Grantaire said, thought he was already drinking in the first place. "To not dying, I suppose." He looked over at Enjolras. "Don't you all fear to die? What if no one remembers you? What if this is for nothing?" Grantaire stumbled around as he said this, everyone glancing at him nervously. Bastards. 

He had also caught Enjolras's attention by that point. Enjolras stomped over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Grantaire. That's enough." He said firmly.

Grantaire looked at him. It all dawned on him now. He couldn't have Enjolras die. Now that he actually let himself believe in something, he couldn't let it escape him again. He was everything he hated once again, how could he let himself be so naive? Desperation painted his face as he looked up at Enjolras.

"Is your life just one more life?" Grantaire said. Enjolras gaped at him. He's never seen Enjolras this vulnerable. It was terrifying. Enjolras was always the one who could face the world. Now they were vulnerable together.

They stared into each others eyes. Their friends around them were drinking together and celebrating being alive, and they were on another plane. The moment lasted for what seemed like eons. Then Grantaire lunged at Enjolras, clinging to him for dear life. And Enjolras hugged back. 

They clung too each other for a while, exchanging no words. Grantaire wouldn't dare to pull away.

Enjolras did end up pulling back, but kept a hand on Grantaire's cheek. "Grantaire, we'll be okay. I promise."

"Empty promise." Grantaire muttered, but he knew Enjolras meant it genuinely. Enjolras kept his hand on Grantaires cheek for a moment, looking at him sympathetically. Then it slid down to his shoulder, giving it pat. Enjolras then walked away, leaving Grantaire alone.

Grantaire didn't join in with the others who were drinking merrily. Instead, he stared at Enjolras until sleep overcame him.

~*~

Morning came, and they attacked again. Grantaire still couldn't work up the nerve to shoot a gun. The defense was still successful. Grantaire wasn't needed.

Ammunition was running short. Marius made a stupid offer to go grab some bullets from the deceased soldiers in front of the barricade. It was way too dangerous. Then the man in uniform offered to go instead. Enjolras wouldn't let him.

"I'm quick and small! I can manage it!" Gavroche shouted and started climbing the barricade, before anyone could stop him.

"No!" Grantaire shrieked. He tried to climb up the barricade after Gavroche, but Enjolras grabbed him.

"Grantaire! Are you dense?! If they see you they'll shoot!" Enjolras barked at him.

Grantaire struggled against Enjorlas's arms. "They'll shoot him too! I'd rather die than have him die! I'm already useless enough!" Grantaire desperately tried to wriggle out of Enjolras's grip, but he couldn't manage it.

"Grantaire." Enjolras said firmly. "We can't risk it."

Everyone watched anxiously. They cheered as bundles of ammunition came flying over the barricade. Grantaire relaxed a little when he saw Gavroche climbing back up the barricade.

Then Gavroche was shot. He kept struggling, though, but he was shot again. His limp body fell down into the barricade. 

Grantaire screamed, and Enjolras let him go. He rushed over to Gavroche's corpse and burst into tears.

"It's not fair. He shouldn't have died. He was way too young. I was supposed to make sure he'd grow up strong and happy." Grantaire said, bent over the corpse.

"Grantaire..." Enjolras started, walking forward and placing a hand on Grantaire's shoulder.

Grantaire shoved his hand off, snarling at him. "It's your fault. Your revolution killed him. You didn't think... no, you could never understand. This world.... this is the real world, Enjolras. The world kills everything that tries to defy it."

Enjolras scowled. "I get that you're mourning, Grantaire, but this isn't the time for skepticism-"

"This isn't skepticism! I can't believe that, even now, you can't see it." Grantaire interupted.

"You're always like this! I don't get why you're even fighting this revolution. You don't believe anything! You don't even help. Why are you here?" Enjolras yelled, half angry, half confused. 

Grantaire stood up and ran as far from Enjolras as possible. And then he drank. He drank until he passed out, half wishing he wouldn't even wake up.

~*~

When Grantaire awoke, the gunshots pierced his aching hangover. Another battle had commenced. He frantically grabbed the first gun he could find, just for security. He weaseled his way to his position.

That battle was the first time Grantaire would shoot a gun. He didn't think that would be the case at the beginning of the battle. Grantaire sat idlely in his position, waiting to see the outcome. Then he saw a bullet pierce Enjolras's arm. Adrenaline rushed through Grantaire, and an instinctual rage filled him that no amount of paranoia could fight. He took his gun and shot the man who shot Enjolras. 

Enjolras held a hand to his arm and tried to wrap it up. Grantaire bit his lip. Why wasn't anyone noticing? 

Then, a piece of the barricade fell. Grantaire screamed and ran over, even though there wasn't anything he could do. He shrieked out to get Enjolras's attention, but it was too late. The wooden rubble struck Enjolras, the fearless leader. And the leader didn't get up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this chapter is long!! for my standards at least, im proud of myself. at first i was naive and started writing this the day after i posted chapter 1 and i was like whoa at this rate i'll have it done only a day after posting! lmao that didnt happen. sorry most of it so far has been canon plot points i hope its still interesting? but things were different in the end huh ;). yeah from now on things are all different! next chapter will probably be shorter but the last chapter should be interesting. once again, merci beacoup, mes chéris! i hope you enjoyed reading. come say hello to me on Tumblr @ grantairetheskeptic


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited by my lovely friend [catherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milliganopen/pseuds/milliganopen) once again. give her some love shes been working very hard and deserves to know that shes doing gr8.

The shriek that came out of Grantaire's mouth was louder than all of the gunshots. He started to throw the wood that had fallen on Enjolras desperately (maybe move this word to before 'throw'), trying as hard as he could with tears bluring his vision. He couldn't care less about bullets, but at this point the battle was dying down, so there weren't many.

Joly was the first to notice Grantaire's distress. He rushed over carefully. "Grantaire! Are you hurt?" He asked.

"No! Enjolras... he... shot... and the barricade it..." Grantaire ran his hands through his curls nervously. He kneeled next to Enjolras again, starting to slap his face around. "Wake up! Come on Enjolras! Please!" He sobbed.

"Grantaire... please, let me see him." Joly puts his hand on Grantaire's shoulder. It's funny how Joly's the calmer one. Usually it would be Joly who was the anxious wreck, but this time it was Grantaire instead. 

Grantaire obeyed Joly'sorders and shuffled to the side slightly. He did not take his hands off Enjolras. Joly pressed his fingers to Enjolras's wrist, Grantaire watching anxiously.

"He has a pulse. He's alive." Joly said, continuing to inspect Enjolras. Grantaire sighed in relief. Joly turned to Grantaire. "Help me carry him out of the way, will you," he requested. Grantaire nodded and helped Joly carry him to an alcove away from the diminishing battle. He tried to stay as calm as possible, but Grantaire was still shaking. They laid him down gently on the ground, Grantaire kneeling next to him and taking his hand. Joly tended to the wound on Enjolras's arm. When he finished wrapping it he stood. "He should be fine for now. Me and Combeferre can inspect him in greater detail later. I'm going back to battle, will you stay with him?" Joly asked, even though he knew the answer was yes.

Grantaire pressed his lips to Enjolras's hand and clung onto it tightly with shaky hands. He just sat there with him, ignoring the battle around him. If only the situation was different so Grantaire could actually enjoy this rare tender moment. The moment would soon end, and he'd have wasted it all with worry. Grantaire knew once the battle was over, Combeferre and Joly would send him off so they could tend to Enjolras. He couldn't bear a single second away from Enjolras, especially now that he was so close to losing him. He needed a piece of Enjolras, at the least to give him comfort when that time came. He untied the tricolore sash that was around Enjolras's waist and shoved it in his back pocket.

Grantaire hoped, with every once of his heart, that Enjolras would wake. They had finally been making progress, well at least until Grantaire snapped at him. Grantaire wanted to punch himself in the face. How could he screw that up? He always did, he thought. He never could do a thing right. Grantaire hoped that, not only that Enjolras would wake, but also that if he did, he could possibly forgive him. Almost losing him made him realize how much he wanted Enjolras to like him.

The sounds of gunshots stopped. The battle was over. The familiar cheers erupting indicated it was another battle won. Grantaire grimaced. Enjolras didn't get to see it. He let go of Enjolras's hand and went to join his friends.

When Grantaire came out in the open, they were celebrating. Then, Feuilly looked around with a puzzled expression. "Where's Enjolras?" He asked

Grantaires stomach dropped. Joly looked at him. Grantaire swallowed. "He's unconcious. He got shot in the arm, and then a piece of the barricade fell on him." Grantaire said, voiced strained.

The mood dropped, everyone looking at the ground, defeated. Joly and Combeferre left, presumably to check on Enjolras. Admittedly, Grantaire wasn't paying attention.

"He's... If they could get Enjolras, we're all goners," Feuilly said, distressed, putting his head in his hands. Everyone agreed, the fear of death finally getting to them. They questioned the revolution, whether it would work , whether it was actually worth it. "Without Enjolras, there really is no point," Bahorel sulked. 

The revolution was crumbling. And everyone finally saw it. It should have been music to Grantaire's ears, but it wasn't. This was what Grantaire wanted. He wanted everyone to see just how faulty this revolution actually was. That's what he's been saying this entire time. But it didn't feel good. Not one bit. It felt terrible. He had no idea why. It was killing him. Why didn't everyone agreeing with him make him happy?

Maybe it was due to imbalance. Maybe the negativity was throwing of the comfortable balance they once maintained. Grantaire played the role of the pessimist, now that everyone was playing that role, the balance was off kilter. Maybe it was the lack balance that was causing strange feelings inside of Grantaire.

Maybe it was Enjolras's absence. Maybe he wanted to see the look on Enjolras's face when his beloved friends were crumbling. No, Grantaire wasn't evil. Maybe still it was that Enjolras wasn't there at all that made him start to feel this way.

Maybe Enjolras actually gave him something to believe in. Now that's a thought. Grantaire, the skeptic, the cynic. Could he believe in something again? He knew he devoted himself Enjolras, which if he acted on the cravings in the back on his mind would certainly be a huge mistake. But did Enjolras actually make him believe in a cause? No, that's not it.

What happened next may have been caused by the need to fill the role of the optimist. It may have been caused by Grantaire actually starting to believe in a cause (though doubtful). Most likely of all, it was probably caused by his love for Enjolras. Enjolras wouldn't want this, even if he were dead.

Enjolras made him crazy. Enjolras blurred his judgement worse than any amount of alcohol could ever do. Getting involved with Enjolras was a huge mistake, but there was no turning back now.

Grantaire stood up on a wooden crate and whistled to catch everyone's attention. "Everyone! Listen!" He yelled. They reluctantly looked up at him.

Grantaire scowled. "Enjolras wouldn't have wanted this! He would call you all cowards! How could you lose faith now, you've come so far! Even if..." He got choked up for a moment. "Even if he did die... he wouldn't have wanted you to just give up! He would have wanted you to keep fighting to the very end! You can't let Enjolras's suffering go in vain!" Grantaire picked up the red flag at his feet. "Vive la republique! No matter the circumstances! Don't fail Enjolras, I'll never forgive you if you do."

Everyone was speechless. Well, if that didn't rob (hadn't robbed them of all their words, what he would do next would rob them of every word they had left.

Grantaire took Enjolras's sash out of his pocket and tied it hastily around his waist. He raised the flag up. "Since all of you have become the skeptic, I'll fufill the role of the leader!" He announced. "Until Enjolras wakes, I'll do my best to lead you in this revolution!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sorry this is out later than usual. i've honestly been neglecting working on this. good news is that i have like a ton of ideas for other fics. so you should probably see another one from me soon. also there could (i'm still on the fence) be a sequel to this fic, so... theres that possibility. also, i apologize this is so short but there really isnt any more plot elements to write in this chapter and i really really struggle with dragging things out. oh and i think the next chapter (which is the last chapter not including the epilogue) wont be out soon, sorry. i know basically whats gonna happen, but i don't have all the plot points planned out. anyways, so the fic huh. what do you guys think c:?? This is actually the whole concept i based the fic off of, grantaire having to lead the revolution in enjolras's absence. hehe. well i digress. merci beacoup pour lire ma histoire! and sorry for my lackluster french. come say hi tumblr, my les mis sideblog is grantairetheskeptic :). also me and my friend (my lovely editor) are making les mis parody twitter accounts grantaire_png and eponine_png. go follow if you'd like!


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